Halloween
by cmar
Summary: PRTF: What's your worst nightmare? Eric finds his at the BioLab Halloween party. In 'Time' series. Oneshot, complete.


Eric, Wes, Jen, and all of Time Force belong to Disney/Saban. I am using them without permission, but I am not and don't expect to make money from this.  
Gaby belongs to me. 

Rated PG-13: language, violence, mild sexuality. 

A little bit of Halloween fun... This is an epilogue to 'Unreal Life' and 'Violet'. You don't have to have read them, but it would help. It takes place in my 'Year of Time' series of Time Force stories. 

Kindly take a moment to review... 

Halloween

* * *

* * *

* * *

"Hey, Eric, love your costume." 

"Very funny," I muttered as the person who had spoken -- one of the Bio-Lab junior executives -- flashed me a grin before heading for the bar. 

"Told you, you should have dressed up," Gaby said. 

"I'm wearing my uniform. That's good enough." 

"It's not exactly a costume." She smiled. "If you didn't want to wear your Ranger suit-" 

"Which I didn't." 

"-you could have worn regular clothes. Come as a civilian. I bet half these people wouldn't recognize you out of uniform." 

"Ha ha. You're dressed up enough for both of us." I glanced over her outfit again. Gaby was wearing a Catwoman costume, a sleek black catsuit, which I personally thought was a little too revealing for comfort. For my comfort, anyway, when she was showing off her assets to anyone who cared to look. 

"Look, there's Wes and Jen." She grabbed my hand and led me towards the couple sitting at a table in a corner of the Bio-Lab lunchroom, now decorated with orange streamers and plastic pumpkins. 

Two heads, one dark blond, one brunette, turned up as we approached. Wes Collins, my partner and co-commander of the Silver Guardians, greeted us with a grin, Jen, his fiancée, with a more restrained smile. "Hey, Eric! Love your costume!" Wes said. 

"Yeah, right." I scowled at him. Wes loves to make fun of me. I don't really mind anymore, in fact I kind of like it, but I have to keep up my image. The two of them were wearing matching cowboy suits with masks. Too cute for words. At least any words I could repeat in public. "What are you supposed to be?" I asked. 

He grinned even wider, if possible. "The Lone Ranger. Get it?" 

"Geez. That's hilarious, Wes. And what about Jen?" 

"I'm the Lone Rangerette," she said, with an admirably straight face. 

Gaby took a look at my expression and started giggling so hard that she was coughing as we sat down. I was having a hard time not laughing myself, not that I let it show. We all sat quietly for a few moments, just looking around at the people we worked with, some in costumes, some not, all talking, drinking, generally seeming to be having a good time. I caught myself examining the room for anything suspicious or out of place, and told myself to stop. Gaby had threatened all kinds of punishment -- some of which sounded like fun -- if I didn't relax and enjoy myself for a change. 

"Any progress with the bridesmaid dress?" Gaby asked Jen. "I hope you're not getting that pink one with the ruffles." 

"Why? Don't you like pink?" 

"It's okay. But that dress you showed me was so butt-ugly…" 

In another moment, they were deep into a conversation about dresses, flowers, shoes, jewelry, God knows what else. Wes and Jen are getting married in a few months, and the arrangements seemed to be slowly but surely taking over their lives. Won't happen to me; if I ever get married, we're eloping. Even Vegas would be better than this. 

Wes leaned towards me, still with that big grin on his face. Sometimes I wonder if his facial muscles get tired. "How's the moving going?" he asked. "Is Gaby getting settled in?" 

"Yeah. We're doing fine." And it's true. After weeks of doubt and hesitation, I finally asked Gaby to move in with me. We still have to get all her stuff brought over, still have to find a place for it -- it's amazing how much junk she had in that little apartment -- but I know it's going to be good. She's one of the few things in my life I'm sure of. 

"Feels pretty nice to relax, doesn't it? With Norman finally out of the way." 

"Yeah." 

He was right, it was good to know our latest enemy was finally gone, after months of watching and worrying. Norman Ryder had almost beaten us, but more important, he had almost taken away all three of the people sitting at that table with me. 

"He really did a number on us," Wes said, not smiling anymore. Remembering, maybe, how Norman had drugged him, sent him into a paranoid fantasy, in which he had never been a Ranger, Jen and I were doing it behind his back, and his own father despised him. The fantasy that had ended with him attacking me, verbally and physically. It had taken some time and effort for our friendship to get back on track, and it still wasn't quite like before. When I was being honest with myself, I knew some deep part of me still hadn't completely forgiven him for the things he had said to me. Not that I didn't want to, Wes was more important to me than I liked to admit. 

"Did Jen ever tell you what the drug did to her? What fantasy she had?" I asked. 

"Yeah. She thought she was back in her own time, on trial for trying to stay here, with me." 

"I wonder why that particular thing." 

"I think it's what she's most afraid of. Letting people down. Having them think she's irresponsible." Wes frowned for once. "Just like I don't like the idea of people thinking I'm just a spoiled brat. Not to mention losing Jen. Or having you and Dad turn against me. And that's what happened in _my_ fantasy." 

"Your worst nightmare…" I tried to remember where I'd heard that lately. 

"Yeah." He grinned again. "Why are we talking about this? We're supposed to be having fun!" 

* * *

Fun. It _was_ fun, but I was still glad to get away from the loud voices and louder music for the few minutes it took me to go to my office and change jackets, after a chemist who had had a few too many spilled his drink on me. I examined the stain -- of course it _had_ to be a Bloody Mary -- dropped the ruined jacket on a chair, and shrugged into the clean spare I always kept in the small closet. 

As I tugged it into place I felt a lump in one of the pockets. Slipped a hand in, thinking I must have left something there the last time I wore it, pulled it out and looked down to see a small ball, smooth and shiny, bright purple, like a Christmas tree decoration. As I turned it in my hand, wondering what the hell it was, it suddenly popped, burst apart, leaving only a few shreds of thin purple plastic and a puff of what seemed to be faintly purple smoke. I noticed a sweet smell. Felt a moment of fear. But nothing happened, and the thought faded. 

It was strange, but I didn't have the time or the inclination right now to worry about it. I dropped the remains of the mystery ball in my garbage can, took a quick look in the mirror to make sure my beret was in place and my hair looked okay. Paused for a moment, wondering if I always looked so -- so hard and stern, so -- unlikable was the word that came to mind. 

I left the office and walked down a hallway that seemed suddenly darker than I remembered. Made a couple of turns. Stopped. I should be close enough to the lunchroom to hear the party. But there was only silence. I started walking again, turned the corner, expecting to see the cafeteria entrance. But there was only a cross-corridor. Somehow I had gotten lost. All I'd had was one drink. But I only drank once in a while, and it must have affected me more than I thought. 

So I looked around, tried to spot something familiar. The damn hallways all looked alike. Just featureless walls and tiled floors leading away from me, doors on either side, all identical. Funny, I never noticed just how identical they were before, never got lost before, it never seemed so dark and gloomy and silent and empty before, as if I was the only person in the building, maybe the only person in the world. 

But just as I was feeling a little edge of panic, I saw it. I recognized this section, a reception desk, that picture on the wall, a water fountain. I was right outside Wes's office. Certainly I could find my way from here. But there was something strange. Wes's light was on. His door was slightly open. And I could hear something. Voices. Some instinct told me to be quiet, not to let them hear me. I crept up, silent and slow, listened at the doorway, a chill icing down my spine. 

_"Oh, Wes, that's so good… Do it again…" _

"Mmmm. My pleasure." 

Without any conscious decision, feeling as if someone else was moving my arms and legs, I stepped forward and pushed the door open. There they were, Gaby sitting on the edge of the desk, Wes standing between her legs, one arm around her, the front of her catsuit unzipped, his hand inside, touching her, his head bent to kiss her neck, her eyes closed. 

I watched them, feeling something inside me go cold, feeling a frozen anger that seemed almost inhuman. Then Gaby opened her eyes, saw me, and gasped. Wes turned his head and saw me. Casually he pulled his hand away from Gaby's body and turned around. 

"Thought you were in your office," he said, as if he was discussing the weather. 

"No." I stared at them. Incredibly, both of them began to smile. 

"Maybe it's better this way," Gaby said. "You had to find out sooner or later." 

"What is this? What the hell is going on?" 

"That should be obvious," Wes said, still in that infuriatingly calm voice. "Gaby and I have been seeing each other for a while now. She's just been waiting for a good time to tell you." 

"A good time," I repeated blankly. 

"Yeah," Gaby said. "Although I was kinda hoping you'd figure it out for yourself." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well -- you didn't really expect me to stay with you for long, did you? I mean, you're not exactly the kind of guy a woman takes seriously." 

"Why not?" I asked, almost in a whisper. 

"Who could put up with you? Face it, Eric, you're a selfish, insensitive pain in the ass. What have you really got to offer? I only stayed this long so I could get closer to Wes." She smiled and hopped off the desk. 

"Sorry, pal, but it's the truth," Wes said. "If you didn't have that morpher, nobody around here would have bothered with you." 

"That's not true!" 

"Just ask my dad. He'd say the same thing." 

"What... what about Jen?" 

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her. And don't get ideas about telling her." He grinned, not a pleasant expression this time. "I can get you fired any time I want. So why don't you just run along like a good boy now, and leave us alone?" 

"No! Gaby, how could you do this?" 

"I already told you," she said impatiently. "What are you, stupid or something?" 

"Just close the door behind you," Wes said with a mocking grin. "We have private business to take care of." He turned back to Gaby, pulling her against him, and slid a hand inside her suit again. I could see it, moving on her, touching the soft flesh I had touched so many times myself… Watched her smile, wrap her arms around his neck, kiss him and press up against him. Watched as they both glanced at me again and began to laugh. 

Again it was as if someone else was moving me, controlling me, as the cold fury burst open inside me, wiping out all thought and reason, leaving only the overwhelming desire to stop them from laughing, stop them from doing what they were doing… and I did… pulled my blaster from its holster, switched the intensity to the highest setting, high enough to kill, aimed right at Wes's big, ugly grin and fired… Then I aimed again, Gaby was starting to scream, but I stopped her with another shot, watched them fall, looked into their eyes, open, staring at me, frozen in death… 

* * *

I don't remember exactly what I did after that. For a while I only remember running, trying to get as far away as I could from what I'd done, trying to run away from the image of their dead, accusing faces. Eventually I stopped, out of breath, sick to my stomach. Trapped again in endless identical corridors, empty, but this time not silent, I could hear voices and music in the distance. People, the party, the normal world I had just shut myself out of forever. Trying to get away from them, not wanting anyone to see me, I stumbled on, turning a few more corners. And of course, I walked right into the lunchroom. 

It was full of people, the lights were bright, the music and the buzz of conversation were loud, until I went staggering in. Then a hush fell, everyone stopped and stared at me. I picked out Jen, Alan Collins, Michael Zaskin, and Steve Miller in the crowd, their eyes full of accusation. They could see it somehow, my guilt, my crime. They started to whisper, all of them, staring, pointing, and whispering, horror and revulsion on their faces, all their voices saying the same thing that was in my own mind. 

_"Murderer!"_

I turned around and ran again, back into the darkened hallways, but the whispering followed me, getting louder. _"Murderer! Killer! Murderer!"_ I ran faster, farther, down endless corridors. But I could still hear the voices, still knew what they were saying. Murderer… 

Somehow I found the front entrance, the guard staring at me, his face twisting with hate and disgust as I ran by and burst out into the night. It was dark, so dark, and cold, the light from the lampposts not seeming to reach all the way to the ground as I tried to find my car in the parking lot. A crowd of people began to come out of the building, looking for me, I knew, starting to come after me. I could hear them, whispering to each other, a low and angry wave of sound, rising as they spotted me. 

Where was the car? Heart hammering, I searched for it, running up and down lines of indistinct automobiles, hulking in the gloom, their headlights like empty, staring, accusing dead eyes. Finally, just as I realized I was surrounded by the mass of people hunting me, I found it, yanked the door open, leaped inside and took off, driving much too fast, shadowy forms leaping out of my path, tearing out of the parking lot and into the deserted street. 

Home. I skidded to a stop, was out of the car, running, up to my front door, fumbling with the keys, dashing inside, slamming the door, locking it as I heard angry voices calling in the distance. I backed away, trying to find a place to hide, but there was no shelter, there was only all of Gaby's things around me, the jacket she had carelessly left lying on the couch, the stack of comics, the pictures she had put up on the wall. 

There were traces of Wes here too, the antique clock he had given us as a housewarming gift, the couch where he had sat so many times. As I looked around I almost seemed to see both of them again, smiling at me, the way they used to tease me, the way their laughter warmed me. I could almost hear them, calling me, concern in their voices. My heart seemed to constrict, everything was a reminder of what I had done, what I had lost. 

Voices, footsteps. They had found me, they were right outside, on the other side of the door, they had come after me, I could hear them, the angry buzzing of their whispers. The knob began to turn, slowly, began to rattle, I could see the door shake in the frame as they pushed it, it was locked, I had locked it, but somehow it was opening anyway, swinging in to let them enter... 

I stared, every muscle freezing with horror, as they stepped into view, two forms with a dark, heaving sea of shadows crowding behind them. As I realized they had come after me, to pull me into hell with their own cold hands. Because it was Wes and Gaby in the doorway, their faces white except where the blaster burns showed, their eyes dead, cold, hot, glaring with hatred and accusation. 

"Hey, partner," Wes said, his familiar grin turned into a vengeful grimace. "Did you really think you could get away from us? Not when we're your worst nightmare..." 

Gaby smiled, an expression of malice that sent an icy shiver through me. "What did I always tell you about your temper, Eric?" she sneered. 

"You just couldn't control yourself, could you?" Wes said as they advanced into the room. 

"Now look what you've done," Gaby hissed. 

I fought off a wave of dizziness somehow, and backed up as they started to come closer. Ran into the wall, flattened against it, unable to think of anything except getting away. They stopped, but then they took a few more steps, slowly, reaching out for me with dead white hands. 

On instinct, I pulled out my blaster again. Held it in a shaking grip and pointed it at them. "Don't come any closer," I gasped. 

"Put that down, it won't help you," Wes said. 

Next to him, Gaby smiled again. "We're already dead, remember?" 

"No!" I shouted. "No! I killed you… I'll kill you again if I have to!" 

Wes stopped, they both did. "But you don't really want to hurt us again," he said with a smirk. "There's only one thing left for you..." 

"That's right." Gaby snickered softly. "You know what you have to do…" 

And I did. The only way to pay for what I had done, the only way to get rid of the guilt and the pain and the fear, forever. I raised the blaster, turned it, pressed it against my own head, tried to get up the courage to pull the trigger as their voices seemed to scream at me silently… Even through closed eyes, I saw the flash of light as the energy ripped into my body, jolting through me, finally sending me into peaceful darkness. 

* * *

"Is he all right?" 

"Physically, he'll be fine, as soon as the stun wears off. Mentally -- well, you saw how he was acting." 

"But _why_? He was fine! What could have happened?" 

Gaby's voice, sounding tearful. And Wes and Jen. But what were they talking about? What was going on? All I felt was confusion, at first. I must have groaned aloud as vague memories began to return. 

"Eric? Eric, can you hear me?" 

I opened my eyes to see all three of them staring down at me. We were in my office at Bio-Lab, I was lying on the floor. Wes and Gaby were kneeling on either side, Jen was standing back a little, her expression wary and a blaster in her hand. Unoriginally, I said, "What happened?" 

"You tell us," Wes said. "You never came back from changing your jacket." 

"We came to look for you, and you were…" Gaby glanced across me at Wes. "You were acting strange." She reached for my hand and clasped it in both of hers. 

"You stared at us like you'd seen a ghost. Then you threatened to kill us." 

"That's when I morphed," Jen said. 

"Then you put the blaster to your head," Gaby said, her face anxious. 

"And _that's_ when I shot you," Jen added. "Stun, of course." 

"Fucking shit…" It seemed the only suitable thing to say, as I realized what must have happened. All three of them watched cautiously as I got up and sank gratefully into my chair, and as I started talking again. "Norman's drug. You said it was a gas? Purple colored? Smelled sweet?" 

"That's right." 

I sighed. "When I put on my spare jacket, there was a little purple ball in the pocket. It popped while I was looking at it, just like a balloon. There was purple smoke in it. Sweet-smelling." 

"Shit," Wes said softly. "Norman said something about making you 'share our experience', remember? He must have meant he wanted to send you to fantasy-land, too." 

"Yeah. Said it would be interesting to see what my worst nightmare is." 

"He was here, in Bio-Lab, when he attacked Steve," Jen said. "Norman must have gotten in here, in your office. Left that gas bomb in your jacket. It's been waiting there ever since." 

"And tonight, I got it." I pointed. "What's left of it is in the garbage. Unless I imagined that too." 

"No, I see it," Jen said. 

"I'll have Chemistry take it for analysis, and have the room searched for more booby traps," Wes said. "You seem to be okay now; it must have been a mild dose." 

"Mild," I muttered. "Hate to think what full strength must have done to you two." 

"What did you see?" Gaby asked. "What was your fantasy?" 

"I..." I hesitated, but I felt the need to tell them, to get it out. To have someone tell me it wasn't as bad as I thought. If they could. "I found you and Wes. Together. You know." 

"Me and Wes?" They exchanged a startled glance. "That's your worst nightmare?" 

"Your girl with your best friend. That qualified as a nightmare for me," Wes said with a slight smile. 

I shook my head. "That's not it. That wasn't the worst part." They looked at me inquiringly as I went on. "You both laughed at me. I lost it. Just went crazy. Shot both of you. Killed you." I paused as they all stared, and looked down at the floor as I went on. "That's my nightmare. Losing control. I've always had a problem with my temper. Always been afraid someday I'll do something really terrible, something unforgivable. Like killing someone." 

"But it was only a fantasy," Wes said. 

"I still _did_ it, even if it was just in my head! And what about a few minutes ago, when you came in here? I thought you were some kind of zombies, after me for revenge. I could have killed you for real!" 

"Not with this," Jen said, holding up the blaster in her hand. My blaster. "The setting's on stun. It was on stun the whole time. You couldn't have killed anyone." 

"Besides, you _didn't_ shoot us," Wes said. 

"Right." Gaby's warm brown eyes held mine. "It was only the drug that made you think you could do something like that. The drug could make you do it in the dream, but something kept you from hurting us in real life." 

I wasn't entirely convinced, but it helped, as I remembered how I had felt in the dream, like someone else was moving my body. I smiled, a little, and stood up. Gaby stepped into my arms and hugged me tight as I pressed my face against hers, letting the clean smell of her skin and hair take away thoughts of cold white faces and shadowy whispers. "Come on, let's go home," she murmured into my neck. 

"Yeah." But there was something I had to do first. "Gaby, Jen, could you give me a minute with Wes?" I asked. 

They both looked curious, but they went outside without an argument. Then Wes and I were alone, facing each other across my desk. He pulled up another chair and we both sat. "What's up?" he asked. 

"I just wanted to apologize." 

"For what?" 

"For being a jerk about the things you said to me, when you were under the drug." I glanced away for a moment, then back at his face. "I've gone through the same thing now. It was so _real_..." 

"Now you understand." 

"Yeah. The one good thing about this. I understand. I'm sorry I ever blamed you." 

"Forget it." He grinned, and I knew he meant it. That's the thing about Wes. For a couple of months I had given him the cold shoulder, almost ended our friendship, all for something that wasn't his fault, but all he did now was shrug, grin, and say, 'Forget it.' He's annoyingly cheerful, makes bad jokes, sometimes he's a little spoiled... but he's a nice guy, right down to the core. 

Maybe I was still being affected by the drug, or just got carried away with sentimentality. "You're a good friend, Wes," I sort of mumbled, feeling embarrassed as soon as I said it. 

"So are you." To my relief, Wes jumped up. "Let's get out of here," he said. "We'll find the girls picking up guys at the bar if we keep them waiting any longer." 

I put a hand on his shoulder as we went through the door, and an arm around Gaby as we started down the hall. Strangely enough, I suddenly felt good, kind of exhilarated, that feeling you get when you face something terrifying and come out of it in one piece. 

I smiled and squeezed Gaby a little closer. "I've had my trick for the evening," I said. "Now where's my treat?" 

* * *

* End *

* * *


End file.
